Hollow Eyes
by Elementsofmine
Summary: {{Incomplete}} City bombings. 11-year old geniuses. Multiple-personality disorder. Attempted assassinations. It's no small coincidence Naraku means Inferno; See him wave? He's welcoming you...to the city. Chapter 4 up!
1. Live By The City

**Last Edit:** 11/7/04

**Annoying Author Blurb: **Why am I redoing a whole story when I have millions of more tasks to do? Who knows, but I hope this certainty pleases some of you out there. Otherwise, I might just go shoot myself. More author notes at the end if you're bothered to read them.

**Disclaimer: **You have any idea how old this gets after awhile? I don't own.

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**Hollow Eyes**

**By Elementsofmine/elementalspirit125**

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**Live By The City**

**(Or Die By It!)**

This story is rated R. The ratings vary from chapter to chapter. This chapter is rated R for language and adult situations.

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**June 11, 2003 Tokyo, Japan. Roof-top of Suntimes Radio Broadcast tower.**

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The man calmly fitted the bomb into the empty Coke can.

Down below, the celebrations went on, unaware of the imminent destructive end awaiting. The mayor's limousine slowly cruised around the park borders, flanked by police cars and various other men on motorcycles, speaking to each other through remote devices. Tinted windows reflected the sunlight back, sending the guards scrambling for their sunglasses.

Crowds of people acted as one and waved and screamed as the limo went by. Signs were waved, creatively decorated with sparkles and fluorescent colors. More police had to patrol the lines separating the people and the parade, constantly having to scold some mother for absentmindedly letting her toddler wander away.

The man placed the can into a paintball launcher, specially designed and enlarged to fit wider containers. He took aim, watching the scene below with a face blank as the clear sky above. There wasn't much of a chance he actually had to light the bomb; he was just the back up to the focal point of the mission.

Mission. Somewhere in the back of his head, something ticked happily away. The word itself reminded him of old spy flicks, where the spies were always men of international flair and style. Where the spies always ended up saving the day...-and- getting the women while they were at it.

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**One week ago**

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_"Y-you want to...what?"_

_The pale-skinned woman carefully averted her eyes. "I don't think we were meant to be together. We never agreed on this long a relationship. I think...we shouldn't go any further."_

_Behind them, a man impatiently drummed along the bar dais. "Can we move your little soap opera outside and let the paying customers in?"_

_Naraku and Kikyou turned together simultaneously and glared. The man rolled his eyes sardonically but kept silent after that._

_Naraku thought for a moment, the event's emotions not touching him yet. Carefully gathering his words together, he chose the blunt phrasing. _

_"It's another guy."_

_Kikyou didn't even bother to try and lie. Both of them knew the recent involvement Kikyou had with the group's newest member. Naraku waited a few minutes more, long silence stretching the whole time, before shrugging on his jacket and walking away towards the bar exit._

_Kikyou twisted the ring on her right index, pulling hard on it. Yanking it off her finger, she hurled it onto the floor and crushed it easily into bits with a well-aimed stamp of her shoe heel. _

_"Not regretful at all, eh?"_

_Kikyou turned in her seat. So the annoying man was still there. Her eyes flickered briefly over him, from his clothes to his long hair, braided in a single braid down his back. A shake of his head when he realized she was looking, and his long bangs parted to reveal a star-shaped scar._

_"Yes, I grew out my hair, no, I'm actually not gay, and no, it's actually not a scar. It's a tattoo."_

_Kikyou mentally weighed her values. The man wasn't bad-looking; certainly striking something in her. Talking to so many men in one night...agreeing to Inuyasha that she would break up with Naraku, telling Naraku himself that after two years it was all over, and now this._

_It wasn't like she was flirty; it was just natural for her to sometimes step over other people's feelings._

_Her little balance scale in her brain tipped in her favor. Inuyasha and Naraku could go screw each other. _

_"So...you come here often?"_

_Kikyou smiled, despite the obvious 'used' line being played on her. Just for this night, she'd play the dumb virgin._

_"Actually," she giggled, feeling the stares of men up to five feet away. "I happen to work here as a barmaid on some nights..."_

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His good mood left him as fast as it had come. Get the women...yeah right.

The mayor's car drew closer; the people below cheered louder. The signs flapped harder.

A girl sat beside the man, fingering a can of her own. Kanna liked Pepsi better; her can was emblazoned with the Pepsi trademark and design. Inside the can was a bomb of her own creation, also as deadly as the man's. She stretched from her cramped position on the high-rise rooftop. "Naraku-sama," she called, stifling a yawn that broke free anyways. "Is it time yet? I'm getting awfully sore from sitting here."

The man continued his steady vigil on the streets below. "Almost," he assured the young girl. "The waiting's almost over, I promise." Looking over at the slumped form of the extremely sleepy girl, he noted the too-white tips of her fingers and the unhealthy tinge of blue in her skin. "Here," he said after a moment of thought. Taking off his jacket he threw it over to her. "Keep warm with that."

Mumbling thanks, the girl pulled on the too-large coat over her own wrinkled shirt.

Minutes passed by. The mayor's car drew closer, almost directly underneath the man's position on the rooftop now.

Tiny hairs prickled up, as Naraku noticed nothing had happened. No screams, no yells. A faint static on his belt notified him of a message about to be picked up. Flipping up the remote device from his belt, he glanced at the screen before placing it next to his ear.

The screen had flashed orange; it was the kid's signal.

"Naraku...Naraku, you there?"

Shippou's voice, still barely past puberty, squeaked out. "Something went wrong with Inuyasha's end of the operation. You'll have to step in!"

Naraku patted the launcher. So maybe the chances of him not using it -weren't- that slim. "No worries," he assured the informer. "Kanna and I are the backup, remember? Ever watch those old spy movies? Backups always get the cool fight scene. Nothing bad ever happens to them."

Shippou's disapproving voice squeaked through the speaker. "You're bringing Kanna along? She's only 11! If Kagura ever gets word of this..."

"I know, I know, Kagura'd slay us with the press, her being their star reporter and all. Don't worry; she's still blind to it all. Kanna's young and all, but she's got good aim. I'll take good care of her. Besides, aren't you younger than her?"

An indignant huff met his joking tone. "I'm older by a month, thank you. Besides, I have enough fluff in my brain to go over five adults. I -am- the one supporting the majority of these excursions, do not mock the hand that feeds you!"

Naraku snorted. "Five adults? Doubt it. Besides, we're the ones that provide all the money, that later somehow leaks its way into your department. How much do you get a month now?"

A silence lapsed, followed by a brief whirring sound from the other end. Obviously, the answer to the question was meant to be found out at a later time.

"Now, Naraku!" Shippou's voice called, urgent. "The car is right below your stand now. Aim it carefully and try not to hit Inuyasha! He's still in there obviously. Dunno what went wrong."

Naraku grit his teeth. He had been hoping Shippou would forget about being careful and let him toss the blasted bomb anywhere he felt like. Accidentally killing Inuyasha wasn't that high on his Not To Do list anyways. Dropping the speaker, he beckoned to the girl slumped beside him.

"Kanna, now!" the man ordered, sending his suddenly alert companion to the roof edge. He lit the protruding wick of the bomb with a match. It fizzled, that started to smoke away as the flame trickled down the braided rope. Pumping the handle of the launcher, he sent in burst after burst of air, which ignited the tiny flame. Seeing the flame had just a few more inches to go before it hit the bomb, he yanked on the pull lever, sending out a string of mechanisms which sent the can flying into the air, headed for the limo.

Kanna did the same with her can, firing it slightly farther, onto the other side of the limo.

Down below, a hand came out of the limo to wave at the citizens.

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"Eh? Inuyasha? My boy, don't tell me you won't let up your scowling, not even for your old man's birthday? Guess not, eh?"

Not seeming ruffled by his son's apparent distaste for the ceremonial festivity, the mayor continued waving gaily to his many citizens, not caring what his half-son thought of him.

Obviously not much, seeing the sour face of Inuyasha. Then again, Inuyasha wasn't thinking of celebrating anything that revolved happily around his father at the moment.

He was planning to kill him.

He had everything planned already; the car door to his left was unlocked, perfect for a speedy getaway after the murder. The knife was in the pocket of his pants, sheathed and prepared. All he had to do was stab the old man, kick the door, and run.

But -something- was holding him back. It wasn't as if he hated his father; he usually had nothing to do with him, and likewise, his father rarely ever saw him. But lately, his father had gotten out of hand; something that could mean nothing in the hands of an everyday citizen, but could spell disaster in the mayor's seat.

Drink had addled his brain; smoke had destroyed his mind. Spending hundreds, maybe even thousands, on cigars and beer, Inuyasha's curiosity had been provoked. After all, he had a good reason to pry; it wasn't everyday he was booted out of his room and sent to sleep in the attic because his room was to be converted into a storage room for beer cases. He had only been seven then.

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_"What's going on? Get outta my room!"_

_His father only waddled around, directing the numerous movers. "Upstairs, upstairs," he replied, not taking in the later demand. "Your new room's upstairs, quit whining for godsakes...not a minute of quiet in this house, never a minute."_

_The boy tried to stop one mover carrying his mattress. "Give that back," he growled. "That's MINE."_

_The man only grinned, revealing strangely pointed teeth. Purposely bowling into the boy, he pushed him out of the way before making his way into the hallway. Dumbfounded in shock, the boy could only sit and watch on as the remnants of his room where carried into the attic._

_"Why are you moving my room," he asked, weakly. The mayor didn't answer, only directed more men that began carrying large cartons into the now vacant room._

_"Wh-what are those?"_

_"Beer, you inquisitive frog," came the reply, almost gaily. His father was in high good humor. _

_"In my room? Why?" came the incredulous question._

_The mayor turned, stopping his perforations in the room. He stared at his son peculiarly, eyeing him from head to sneaker-clad feet. Taking in a deep breath, and rubbing his temples slightly with his indexes, he breathed through clenched teeth as though attempting to alleviate his biggest headache._

_When he opened his eyes once more, he found to his displeasure his son was still there and had -not-, as he hoped, dropped down dead. Turning his back onto his son, he wheezed slightly as he attempted to carry a bookcase out of the room._

_"Go away and do...whatever the other boys your age do. Quit bothering the men and me. We're busy, for crissakes!"_

_An idea dawning upon the round man, he turned around once more to leer at his son with uneven yellowed teeth. "Eh, in fact my boy, head off to the kitchen and wake up that old hag of a cook, Kaede. Tell her to let you play with one of the new kitchen maids, that Mei girl or something. Go on; shoo!" _

_A persistent pounding drove every pain-exploding nail into the mayor's head. His frustrated son kicked every furniture left in the room -hard-, emphasizing every word in his screamed protest._

_"I. Want. My. Room. Back! ::kickkick:: Why. Are. You. Taking. My. Room. ::kickkick::"_

_"Godammit, dumb boy. Of course I'm moving the beer into your room. The other rooms are filled up already," he replied stupidly._

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His suspicions were aroused most definitely when he realized the mayor's checkbooks recorded no such thing. His father was most likely bringing in money through illegal sources, and judging by the almost unlimited capital the family seemed to have, it was working.

Inuyasha could -not- allow that.

It did seem silly, to many. Like son, like father, Inuyasha had his father's love for shady dealings, proudly boasting he could best his father already in moneymaking. Lately, his father had been irritated into trying his best to secure laws to fight back the recent string of bombings and sniper shootings. Newspapers accused the mayor of not doing a good enough job, sending him off into masses of fury.

"Me? No good? Complain about me, will they? I pay for their freakin' wages! Just they wait, I'll get them back for this," he had thundered.

Strangely enough, a few weeks later, the critical remarks on the lacking duties of the mayor stopped.

Even with such a deficient guardian, Inuyasha still found a way to live out his life happily. His days prowling the streets were filled with excitement not found anywhere else. The recent bombings excited him, and he always made sure to buy whatever newspaper blaring the latest terror headlines.

Of course, he was excited because he himself did the bombings.

Sadly, not much attention was given to him and his rag-tag gang of friends. More of it sailed over to supposed 'terrorists' from the Middle East.

But now, he was planning his greatest exploit ever. For him, it would be an escapade of no other nature, a regular dazzling magic show.

_Now you see me, now you don't..._

It would be the 'terrorist attack' of the century. And to believe it had been conducted by a group of teenagers. The brain of the group was eleven.

He had already contacted Naraku and Kouga; they had his back covered if anything went wrong. Everything was fool-proof.

But sometimes, things that are made to be fool-proof sometimes spring leaks...of sorts.

But back to Inuyasha. Now all that was left was for him to stab the man and get over it. Finally making up his mind, he grasped the knife and checked to make sure the privacy screen between the driver and the passengers was closed, before leaning in...

The car suddenly halted, sending Inuyasha tumbling forwards with just enough time beforehand to safely pocket the knife first. Letting out a stream of imaginative language, Inuyasha was sent head over heels, falling over the chair. "What the hell was that for?" he screeched at the driver, even though the screen made it impossible for the driver to hear.

"Watch your tongue," his father cracked out, not even noticing his life had just inadvertently been saved. "Your brother's coming in, make yourself neat and give him some room."

Sure enough, to his horror, Inuyasha saw a lithe man outside the windows drive up on a motorcycle with a police and slide off, walking towards the limo door. Giving a yank to the door, the elder man signaled the police to depart and closed the car door, settling himself into the leather seats.

"My apologies, dear father," the elder brother said, not noticing (or not caring) Inuyasha's abysmal front. "Huge developments at the business today, couldn't get out early."

"My boy!" his father roared in approval, chuckling heavily as he imagined another massive company takeover. Even with the random laws tossed out to ensure the 'safety' of his people, the mayor was still a cruel man; his true nature led him on wild excursions of money and grandeur. The occasional citizen protection laws were made only keep up his support from the citizens. Picking up a cigar, he held the box up to the older brother. "Eh, want one?"

Seeing the shake from his elder son, he shrugged. "Eh, wuss. Suit yourself." Blowing heavy rings of smoke straight into the car interior, the mayor chuckled as though he had told an extremely hilarious joke, rolls of fat jiggling in time with his laughter.

On the floor of the limo, where he was still seated, Inuyasha tried not to puke as the smoke drifted over to him. Coughing profusely while his eyes teared from the smoke, he watched in disgust as his father laughed and coughed repeatedly, hacking up tobacco and the bitter smell of cigars.

A polished shoe kicked out at him, sending Inuyasha rolling across the limo floor. "Watch it, bastard," the hanyou growled, holding his side as he winced, trying to sit up.

His brother only laughed, sweeping his silver hair back with an elegant toss of his head. The family trademark, the cold sneer, graced his features before settling back down into a cruel smile. "Nice to see you to, brother of mine," the man replied easily, crossing his legs.

Settling onto the seat across the limo, Inuyasha inwardly fumed. There was no way he could kill the mayor with his brother here. Hoping either Kouga or Naraku noticed nothing had happened and acted on his or her own, Inuyasha settled himself next to a window, looking up onto the rooftops.

"Trying to find something brother? If you're looking for something smart to say, you're not going to find it outside your window."

Snarling, Inuyasha had to clutch his seat to stop himself from stabbing Sesshomaru instead. The last thing he needed was to-

There. Out of the corner of his eye, Inuyasha saw a Coke can seemingly tumble down from nowhere.

"Eh?" That would be his father, scratching his idiotic head. "What's this?"

Turning about, Inuyasha saw and his eyes widened. Impossible! His father had -caught- the bomb! Even worse, he was now holding it, staring at it as though it was gold that had fallen out of the sky. Leaping up in his seat, Inuyasha made his decision halfway across the limo, unsheathing his knife. Slicing once, twice, across the old man's chest, Inuyasha leapt past a shock-stiff Sesshomaru, kicked the door open, and ran out, narrowly missing a hissing Pepsi can.

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Kikyou turned, wiping a cloth across a dish in the back of the bar. She gestured to the other woman beside her, also busy scrubbing down the glasses and plates.

"Sango, look. Twelve-o'clock. Think we'll feel an explosion?"

The woman grinned foxily. "Hey, we might. Let's see."

Tying a fork onto the window shade string, she watched it swing back and forth until it ceased moving. "We'll be able to see if any vibrations occur with this thing."

Kikyou smirked. "I see someone's been spending time around Shippou. His genius is rubbing off on you...however, I didn't know that could happen..."

Sango gasped and threw a foam bubble at her fellow dishwasher. "You take that back!" Laughing, both girls had a brief soap fight before resuming their duties. "You know," Sango thought aloud. "Shippou's really all by himself in his lab. No machine can ever take the place of human interaction. I feel sorry for him sometimes; he must be so lonely down there by himself."

Kikyou thought for awhile, staring at her hands. Looking up again, she smiled at Sango. "Not true; he's surrounded by so many friends. No one can be lonely with that many friends. We're all together in this."

A door slammed behind them, and footsteps rang down. Seconds later, a head appeared. An amiable smile greeted the two girls.

"Hands up where I can see them," Sango commanded immediately as he started to inch forwards. Raising his hands apologetically, he grinned.

"Can't help being myself sometimes," he replied sheepishly. "God gave these beautiful gifts to women and it's up to men to truly enjoy them."

With a small wave of his hand, Miroku glanced at the clock.

"Seen the time? Think something's wrong?"

Sango shrugged while Kikyou bit her lip. "Dunno," Kikyou finally said. "Maybe they're just running late."

"Maybe," the man replied, none of them really sounding certain.

Suddenly, the remaining unwashed glasses twinkled as they fell against each other. On the windowsill, the suspended fork began to swing.

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"Hey, what are you doing up here?"

Turning around, Naraku saw the buzzing crowd of men behind him.

"Hey, this place is off-limits! Get off from there!"

Damn it. If the men came up to them, they would no doubt ask what he and Kanna were doing. The child already looked scared. Her lower lip trembled as she slowly backed up to where Naraku stood. Naraku cursed under his breath. The group of men came closer to them. There was no way he could run and help Kanna escape with those men blocking the exit. Closing his eyes and muttering a quick frantic prayer, he grabbed Kanna's hand and pulled the child close to him. "Do what I do, and don't look back!" he whispered. Nodding her head sharply, the wide-eyed child shivered uncontrollably.

As the men came ever closer, Naraku squeezed Kanna's hand and faced the crowd below. Quickly scanning the area below and sighting the two cans still falling, he made quick calculations in his head.

"So long, fellows!" he shouted to the puzzled men. And with a salute off, he pulled Kanna to him and jumped off the building.

As the two figures plummeted off the high-rise, the group of men ran to the building edge and watched the two figures fall. One man stared, watching them fall floor after floor.

"They're s'good and dead nows, nothing can save them!"

As the other shocked-faced men began their nods in agreement, a blast sounded throughout the area.

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Running across the street, Inuyasha heard the confused and bewildered tone of the crowd as he felt their eyes follow him running away. He knew he was fast; years of running away from the police had trained him. Stopping at the edge of the park that divided the streets, he spun around to face the crowd. His inner self told him it was foolish; but he couldn't resist. Waving his arms around to attract more attention, he happily screamed,

"BOMB!!!"

And than he ran, disappearing into an alley and leaving the screaming and yelling crowd behind.

"So long, fellows!"

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And with a jump, they were gone.

Kanna's eyes were squeezed firmly shut as the descent down the building sped up. Her hand tightly clenched Naraku's, squeezing hard in fear. At least she wasn't screaming. Narkau couldn't stand screaming women, or girls, for that matter.

Kicking away from the building when they came to close, Naraku managed to steer their way down the building until they were right above an inflated air mattress-trampoline, ironically placed right below them. Nearby, a whole set of cameramen and speakers seemed to recording the parade.

"And action!" a man yelled out, directing other cameramen to go scurrying for better angles.

Meanwhile, Naraku estimated they had about twenty or so floors before they became sidewalk pancakes.

"Feet first onto the mattress," he screamed above the roaring wind. Kanna gave the faintest of nods and concentrated on not letting her body flip with the sharply pressing wind.

Five seconds later, bounced off the trampoline, quite knocked around a bit, but in other words, fine. The man sitting in the director chair stared at them for a while, looking confused.

"Eh? I thought the stunt actors weren't here yet. Eh, Boto, didn't you say they weren't going to arrive until five?

Boto shrugged, and rotated his camera around. "Hey, wouldja look at that," he called, scratching his head. "I got the whole crazy jump on tape..."

The director immediately broke into an array of shining teeth.

"I love it!" he crowed. "Boto, you said you got that on tape, right? Make copies, send them out to the company, one for every sponsor! Make sure you add a sweeping aerial angle, that's right, zoom and enhance at -exactly- the right moment! This'll be a handful of Oscars for sure!"

Naraku smiled weakly, and pulled Kanna along with him, running quickly behind an alley and yanking off a manhole cover. Pushing Kanna in before him, he leaped in and jammed the cover on above him.

A split second later, what newspapers around the world would later describe as Japan's remake of the Hiroshima bombing, the explosion vibrated and detonated, sending heavy walls of sound waves slamming into everything in their path as far away as five miles from the limo.

A movie crew that had been filming part of the parade had their luck cut out for them; their cameras and tape systems had been specially built to withstand great pressure and had survived the blast. A few months later, 'Project Detonation' hit movie theaters, later winning four Oscars. The highlight of the movie was its amazing leap scene, featuring two mystery actors plummeting from the roof of a nearby building.

Unfortunately, the two -real- stuntmen, which later arrived promptly at five-o'clock, received no recognition.

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**Annoying Author Blurb: **Eh, I'm back. This rewrite took approximately three days to write, about one hour to post. Let's go through my posting schedule...

1) Post on Fanfiction; get mad at formatting

2) Post on Mediaminer

3) Mediaminer is screwed; yell a bit and post again

4) Rewrite with HTML coding

5) Post on Animespiral with coding

6) Send message through mailing list

7) Send email to those who want to be notified

8) Update website

9) Update bios on all three fanfiction sites

10) Lay back and pant...heavily

If there's any question with grammar, spelling, etc. please feel free to contact me. Also, I've recently been going searching for betas. Anyone want to give it a try...? My email is

**Betas:** Karis, burnt banana. Wow, I make lots of pointless/stupid mistakes...

**Word To The Wise (elementalspirit125): **When you reach the end of your rope, tie it on a tree, hang on, and swing.

Feel free to send any funny 'life' comments you have yourself. They always make my day!


	2. Poetic Justice

**Last Edit: **11/07/04

**Annoying Author Blurb: **Eh, I'm back. This rewrite took approximately seven days to write, about one hour to post. I'm too slow. I mean, come on, I know authors that start to apologize past a two-day write. Am listening to my Do As Infinity CD. Whoopee!

**Disclaimer: **No own!

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**Hollow Eyes**

**By Elementsofmine/elementalspirit125**

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**Poetic Justice**

**(Not Now! Of All Times...)**

This story is rated R. The ratings vary from chapter to chapter. This chapter is rated R for language and adult situations.

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**2004 Tokyo, Japan. Corner of Maya's Coffee House, almost one year after what later became known as the 'Tokyo Assassination Bombing'. Naraku is now 17.**

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When Naraku looked up at the clock that hung outside the Coffee House, he could just make out the shadowed hands pointing at seven.

Five minutes later, the clock stopped ticking.

Within the inner streets of Tokyo, on the corner where the coffee shop sits, placidly waiting for customers all night long, energy was hard to come by. When visiting, the first thing many tourists noticed was the seemingly lazy pace at which the people there moved. The busy sections of the city were crammed with people, all running about in different directions, each doing his or her best not to be late for whatever important appointment that had sent them scurrying. In the darker portions of the city however, time seemed to slow down.

Even the clock understood this, having hung above the Coffee House entrance since the store opened. Apparently saving its energy for later, the hands stopped its ticking and hang, motionless, suspended a little above the gleaming numeral seven.

Seven-o'clock at night is a dangerous time to be out. The night sky in Tokyo came swiftly, blocking out all remaining traces of its brother Sun. Once the prostitutes and thieves began their nightly prowl, most people began seeking the shelter of their homes.

Naraku was in full exhilaration mode. He couldn't stop smiling; feeling it tug at his lips and pull at his skin. Watching the nightlife begin to appear only added onto his excitement. Today was -the- night, perfectly suited to what he wanted to do.

The early sunsets left the sky dark and bleak, elongating shadows and stretching out those mysterious objects that seem to lurk in every dark crook. Strange things seemed to hide behind ordinary-day objects, skulking just out of sight.

Naraku's unnaturally long fingers grazed over the pocketknife enclosed in its leather casing at his belt. Pulling out the same knife once used six years ago, he took the time to juggle it around, watching the last sunlight rays gleam on its blade.

Holding it up to his face and turning it slightly to the right, Naraku noticed a figure standing across the street from him in the reflection. Immediately, he let out a sharp gasp at her figure.

A shield of lank black hair shaded a shockingly skinny girl, her face hidden as she slumped against part of the coffee shop's walls. Thin chalky fingers reached out imploringly from time to time, pointing pitifully at an old torn hat where scattered bills and coins lay.

A sign at the base of her feet read, 'Sugar for Money'.

Naraku shuddered involuntarily. He doubted he would ever understand prostitutes.

His fingers stroked the blade of his knife absently; feeling the cool metal cut his fingers. It burned, but he did not move his fingers. His eyes followed the steady drip of blood, which slowly began hiding the figure of the girl. Removing his wet fingers from the blade, he sucked contemplatively on his fingers, tasting the saltiness.

Something poked at his mind, and he turned to watch the girl across the street. A seedy-looking man was with her now, touching her. A dollar bill exchanged hands, and the skeletal girl pocketed it into her dirty jacket. They began a slow, erotic dance.

He watched the girl's eyes mist over. A tiny pang of sorrow jabbed piercingly at him. He started to miss watching the feverish green eyes watching the thinning crowd of people mournfully.

The beautiful maiden with the hollow eyes...

He snorted dismissively. He was starting to get poetic at the time of his near death; great. Going back to the matter at hand, he impulsively clutched the obituary already stashed in his jean pocket, typed up just that morning on an old typewriter. Everything had been planned out; he had written it himself, no one else sharing that shred of knowledge. Sensing the shuddering of his hand without even looking, Naraku took timed breaths to try and steady himself. Done with that, he brought the knife up to his heart.

He pressed slightly on the handle of the knife. The blade ran through his jacket, his shirt, and scratched slightly on his chest.

Looking across the street for what he knew would probably be the last time, he stiffened. Another man had arrived, obviously not as caring as the last. Naraku felt his body tense and bumps coated his arms.

The man grabbed the wide-eyed girl roughly, and slammed her into the brick walls of the coffee house in unrighteous anger. Even from his standpoint, Naraku could clearly see the young girl's eyes grow round with fear, frozen in place.

_Run,_ Naraku pleaded silently, unaware that his lips forming his silent plea. _Run!_ The girl didn't move, cowering in horror and pain as the man slapped her once, twice, thrice across the face. Naraku watched tersely as he watched the man grab, shake, and twist her body unmercifully. Some hidden part of his brain realized that everyone on the street seemed to have vanished sometime during the beating. The girl's shrill screams and cries out for help echoed pitifully through the empty streets.

Naraku felt his eyes misting over, a red fog taking away all last shreds of his resolve. Before he could think, the hand that was clutching the knife pulled away from his chest. Ordering his arm muscles to relax and aim, Naraku threw the knife in one fluid movement. The man across the street seemed drunk, but could obviously still hear the whistle of the blade when it sliced through the air in its path. His eyes widened, strongly resembling a squirrel caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, but in waste; before he could blink, he was sprawled on the sidewalk pavement, knife firmly in him.

Argh. Now what had he gotten into?

Naraku felt his legs move of their own accord. Before he knew it, he was at the stunned girl's side. The man was still alive, though not for long, lying just a couple of feet away. He choked slightly, and his red-rimmed eyes stared straight at Naraku, surprise written clearly all over his face. Even though he was evidently drunk and dying, he could still focus.

Naraku ignored the dying man and let his attention concentrate on the girl. Her lips were moving soundlessly, forming silent words. "Speak up," Naraku commanded, curiosity sparked.

Looking up as though just seeing him, the girl gulped loudly and attempted to speak, although no sound came out of her mouth.

"What?"

She pointed irritably at her throat.

"I can't hear you."

Finally irritated to her wit's end, the girl snapped, eyes flashing angrily. "He's dead!"

Naraku stood up from his kneeling position. "No big deal," he shrugged lifting his shoulders in an almost careless fashion.

The girl gaped, mouth hanging open slightly. "B-but...y-you...he..." Taking one final look at the unfocused blank eyes of the dead man, she groaned. "I think I'm going to be sick," she gasped, before turning over and retching.

Naraku waited patiently for her to finish. When he was sure she was finished, he crouched down beside her, balancing himself. Encircling his arms around the shuddering girl, Naraku grunted as he hefted the girl up, balancing her on his hip. "Get on my back," he patiently said.

"I can walk," the girl retorted. Then, looking down at her limp dangling legs, she winced. "Then again, maybe I can't."

Sighing as she perceptibly gave no intention of moving from her position, Naraku bounced her, disregarding her screech, and balanced her on his back. Turning his head around to face her, he glared stonily at her ghost-white face.

"Don't you dare throw up on my shirt like you did back there. I'll make you pay for the laundry bill if you do."

The girl surprised him by letting out a nervous giggle. "I didn't throw up back there. You can't if you've got nothing to eat."

Feeling the tug at his bank account already, Naraku shifted her more comfortably on his back. "We'll get you properly fed and dressed tomorrow. You can sleep at my house tonight. Okay?"

A snore greeted him. The girl didn't even have enough sense to say thanks.

With his last vestiges of strength, Naraku was able to hold his grip firmly on her legs wrapped around his waist. Walking away from the dead man, Naraku suddenly stopped a few feet away, as though remembering something. Bobbing about awkwardly, Naraku managed to hold onto the girl while fishing about in his pocket for a spare pencil and his no-longer needed obituary. Quickly erasing some words and replacing others, Naraku let the scrap of paper fall down to the ground and used the edge of his shoe to wedge it under the body.

Shakily make his way down the street once more, Naraku could not help wondering what would have happened if he had only began his suicidal venture a couple of streets down from the corner. Things could've ended quite differently that way. Pushing the sleeping body back up with his hands to prevent the girl from falling, Naraku started off in the direction of his apartment, disappearing into the night.

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**August 18, 2004 Tokyo, Japan. Corner of Maya's Coffee House, next morning.**

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"Boen to Station, Boen to Station, the time is four 'oh two, we've got a suspect here, right outside the coffeeshop, over."

Static greeted the policeman. A tired, tinny voice sounded through the walkie-talkie. "Well, bring him over then! Over."

Boen gave the device a dry look, hoping technology would boost up soon so he could make faces at his chief. "Can't sir, he's dead. Over."

A brief pause followed his statement. "Got any identification? Over."

Boen beckoned to the medical examiner, jabbing a finger at the remote device. "Chief wants the full. Got anything?" The examiner nodded, and called out to a young woman standing near the body.

"Hey, reporter lady! Give the obituary back!"

The woman didn't even look back at him. Throwing a scrap of paper over her shoulder to the police officer, she knelt down to sit beside the body.

Behind her, she could hear faint voices of the small crowd of police conversing normally, as though dead bodies usually turned up everywhere. Something still bothered her about the obituary found. Everyone had immediately assumed it was a suicide; her opinion differed. What man died by his own hand looking shocked?

Maybe he was shocked it had hurt; how thick exactly had this man been?

Then again, something about the last name triggered something in her memory. Hiroga ...Hiroga ... Her brain refused to provide a quick answer, leaving her stumped. Damn it. And she called herself a reporter. Sighing, Kagura made as if the stand up, placing one hand onto the ground to steady herself. Looking back at the man's blankly staring eyes, she used her fingers to close those eyes.

Something about them seemed familiar too. Kagura shivered.

It wasn't as if her coming to the crime scene was completely fruitless. She had managed to make a copy of the obituary found near the man in her own impeccable neat handwriting before the examiner wanted it back. Upon his asking, she had handed him the copy while keeping the original for herself. A close glance would reveal it was only pen-done; not inked by a typewriter, as the original had been. But the examiner had only wanted it for a quick moment. She suspected he had probably already thrown it away by now. Police officers these days...

_Jamaino Hiroga  
Age: 51  
Jamaino Hiroga, formerly of Kyoto, Japan, died August 17, 2004._

Something about the various smudges as though the writer had done some quick erasing bothered her. Half of the note was in pencil! It wasn't a long obituary; did the man really need to rewrite it that much? She'd take it home and examine it further there. Pocketing it into her purse, she walked off, high heels clicking importantly down the sidewalk.

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**Excerpt from diary found in empty slave quarter in mayor's mansion. Dated August 8, 2004 on last diary entry. Found on day of slave escape.**

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**August 8, 2004. **

_Diary;_

_Today's the day. Kaede assures us that no one will be at the front gate today. Ayame has been recruited to be part of the lineup that will divert the guard's attention from the main hallway and the door. She and her band of wolf-youkai will find a way for us to go unnoticed, I'm sure of it. She gave me a package today, held in a linen handkerchief. She knew a man before she was caught and brought here; one that she's sure is still alive. I am to try and find him, and give her present to him. His name is Kouga._

_Kaede says it's almost time. We have ten minutes. Souta is scared. He holds my hand tightly. Kohaku is frightened too, but he's older than Souta and sits still, staring at the ground. He says the first thing he wants to do once he gets out is eat a real burger at a fast food restaurant. Then he wants to find his sister. It won't be easy; he doesn't know where she lives and if she is even still alive. He does have one tattered photograph of her, but it doesn't help much, being as it was taken when she was still very young. He doesn't even know her name._

_Tai was angry today. One of the slaves didn't do a good enough job on cleaning his spear. All the slaves were punished, so none of us got to eat today. Kaede, however, being the clever lady she is, managed to sneak us some food to bring along with us._

_The real problem is trying to fit in after escaping. Our dress and markings immediately distinguish us as slaves. Everywhere, there are slave hunters disguised as police, always keeping their eyes open for a potential slave escapee. Children wandering the streets without an adult are the most vulnerable. We'll have to be careful._

_Oh! It's time to go! Wish me luck diary! I'll have to leave you here, I'm sorry. It's almost as though a friend was taken away. I'll miss you, and Kaede-san, and Ayame, Ginta, Hakaku, Totousai..._

(Several button-sized water drops here blur and obscure the rest of the list)

_Shiori, and Kanna..._

_Oh no! I didn't say goodbye to Inu! What if he-_

(The entry ends here, the last sentence being unfinished, the pencil mark trailing off as though the writer was suddenly pulled away by the arm)

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**August 18, 2004. Four-story apartment complex, third floor. Room 409.**

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Kagome awoke to violent coughs. Sitting upright in the bed, she choked on her own strained gasps. Feeling her wrists grind against her ribs as she fought for air, her face flushed with heat. Something -hurt- inside her, thudding out painfully stark vibrations every time she tried to move. Feeling someone place a damp towel on her forehead, she fell back onto the bed, feeling the dripping of water down her face, curving its way through the curvatures of her neck. She tried breathing in fresh air, painfully aware of the constant throb in her chest. Her ribs are probably bruised. Something large and solid near her shifted, pulling up a blanket around her chin.

"No," she groaned. "Too hot." The blanket came off. Great, now she was too cold. Life was just not being fair. Turning onto her side, she peered up through watery eyes to try and separate the one haze from another. No luck. Pain clamped its teeth down on her chest so hard that she ended up choking on her own dry coughs. Someone quickly came forward and rubbed her sternum soothingly.

""I feel great. Absolutely dandy." Kagome managed to rasp.

"Be glad you are still alive," the voice answered, rather blankly. "You went through a lot yesterday."

"Y-yesterday?"

"Yes."

_Must've stayed here the night..._ Kagome reflected on that, chewing her bottom lip ruefully. That would explain her dry mouth. But it still didn't explain...

She struggled to get up, pushing back the heavy folds of the blanket with difficulty owing to her non-working eyes. Hoisting herself off the bed with two arms supporting her from behind, she almost collapsed as her legs gave way. Two careful, but firm hands lifted her and placed her back onto the bed.

"Quit that," Kagome grouched. "I'm fine the way I am, leave me alone."

"You can't walk," the voice replied pointedly.

Kagome wiggled around a bit, trying to avoid a pointless answer. Hearing the voice sigh in exasperation, she directed her stubbornly unseeing eyes onto him. "Thanks and all, but I really have to go now."

The voice emitted a noise similar to a snort. "Of course. I was mistaken in keeping you here. A thousand pardons, my lady. Go outside, leave. Enter a marathon while you're at it."

Kagome was miffed. Even though she couldn't properly see his face, she felt he was humoring her. Drat it.

Naraku cocked his head to a side and crossed his legs. Since when did this skinny underfed girl decided to back talk him? He had yet to hear any appreciation in her voice. He wasn't used to people actually defying him. Usually, one look at him was all it took to send most people scrambling over their feet in their haste to run the other way. Then again, it wasn't as if the girl had actually looked at him yet. The night before had been dark, and she hadn't looked directly at him then either. Now, she seemed to be engaged in sharing a heated conversation with his dresser. He tried changing the subject, going ahead with his suspicions.

"Where's your cane?"

"A what?"

"A cane. For getting around. Or a nurse that looks after you?"

"What the hell do you mean," sputtered Kagome. "Why would I need a cane? Do I look that old?" Self-consciously, she patted her face to reassure herself wrinkles hadn't suddenly burst out.

Naraku began to feel the tiniest bit uncomfortable. Something was off, the girl's voice was becoming a bit too shrill. He tentatively probed farther. "You, being in you are in, cannot possibly have survived all this time by yourself like this. Do you have a dog? Or anyone that helps you get around?"

Kagome froze, realizing what he was trying to ask. "I'm not blind," she said numbly, feeling stupid. That wasn't entirely true; despite all her blinking, her sight still hadn't cleared up. "At least...I wasn't before," she said slowly, numbing shock starting to set in."

Naraku didn't pass by the deadened panic in her voice. "You weren't blind before...?"

Kagome nodded slowly. Somewhere, she heard the dawning comprehension tighten the man's voice. Tightening her hold of the blanket in her hands, her brain faintly registered the fact that the thin fabric was close to being ripped in halves.

"Oh shit," Naraku murmured tiredly, rubbing at his temples.

"Don't curse," replied Kagome weakly, before she sighed and fell back asleep.

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"So it's not permanent?"

Shippou wheeled around in his swirling chair, watching the monitor screen flash frames of Naraku's apartment out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, it's just minor retina damage, could come on through some sort of explosion, extreme light, or just overall shock. Stress could also cause it to come on," Shippou said superiorly while playing with two walnut shells.

Naraku's enlarged face showed the face of a man that hadn't slept properly for days as a furious scream ricocheted through his apartment walls. He made sure his inward relief at not having to take care of a permanently blind girl didn't show on his face.

Shippou sweatdropped. "Eh, remind me again why you're keeping this girl?"

Naraku didn't answer; the screen showed an empty kitchen as a frantic Naraku ran off the side of the screen. Toggling a few controls on the complicated expanse of many joined instruments, Shippou was able to bring the pained face of Naraku back into picture.

"Well? Now what?"

"I think she's broken the closet." A shatter brought Naraku wincing. "That would be the mirror."

Shippo rolled his eyes. "You have money. You can pay it off. Here, let me call up your bedroom onto a separate monitor." Propelling himself with his tiny legs to another side of the room, Shippou typed in a few requests, sending the computer humming and another monitor flickering into life. Naraku's voice resounded from behind him.

"You have cameras in my bedroom? That's reassuring."

Shippou ignored the comment. "Ouch. There goes your clock. No wait, that was the chair. Oh, now the clock's gone. Ooh, that can't be repaired either..."

The girl having a rampage in Naraku's room suddenly froze, turning slowly to where the source of the small whirring sounds were coming from. Tossing a beat-up digital clock in her hand, she aimed it at the noise.

Another second later, and Shippou found himself staring at a blank screen.

Groaning, he tried hopelessly to bring back the screen. "Ah well," he consoled himself. "Time for me to sign off anyways." Listening carefully with one ear cocked up, Shippou made sure he heard no one prowling around his lab; after Naraku's sudden departure a year ago, Inuyasha had completely forbidden contact with him.

Cursing most eloquently, Kagome kicked at a drawer now missing a handle. No one could understand her! She didn't want to just suddenly wake up in some strange house not able to see! Tripping over a wire stretched across the floor, Kagome fell, banging into one corner of the bed.

Weeping in frustration, she crawled up into a tiny ball and covered herself with the remnants of a blanket. She hated seeing nothing, even though her mind and heart both wished fervently for her sight's return. She felt so vulnerable without it, like a bird unable to fly.

A small 'click' behind her went unnoticed, even when Naraku stepped into the room. Carefully making sure the door was only a couple of feet away from him (in case a quick getaway was needed), he slid down to the floor, back resting against the wall. Watching her sobs reside slightly as she calmed down, Naraku began to speak.

"I really can't have guests behaving like this. Either pick up your manners or I'll be forced to make you leave."

The girl said nothing, still hunched over, half-hidden by the blanket. Her raven-black locks fell in odd strands over her face, hiding it from view.

Studying her throughout the entire silence that followed, Naraku wondered idly what it was that was making him feel strangely light-headed. Some sort of smell permeated throughout the room. Bringing himself just a few inches closer, as much as he dared, he sniffed cautiously. A slim eyebrow arched up as the warm scent of vanilla sugar reached him. Carefully crawling closer with fractional movements, Naraku was able to breathe deep the sweet honeyed smell emanating from both the girl and his bed.

"Don't think you can come and manhandle me just because I'm blind now," a muffled voice said dryly, startling Naraku.

"You're not," said Naraku uncomfortably.

With her face still turned away from him, Kagome winced. He really was out of practice in trying to console someone.

The girl pulled the blanket over her head. "Don't play the friendly doctor and lie. I'm blind for life now!" The saltiness of fresh tears spun into the vanilla sugar scent.

Naraku panicked, somewhat disturbed and foggy-headed by the wafting breeze of honey. "You aren't!" he cried, alarmed at the girl's sniffles. "It's only temporary! I asked Shippou!"

The girl hugged her legs to her chest, un-swayed by his reasonings. "Who's Shippou?" she asked suspiciously. "Was that the thing that was watching me through the camera?"

"Yes, it was the camera! Wait, I mean, no! It was! Wasn't!"

Kagome had to stifle a giggle despite her first disliking of the strangely compelling man. Really, she had overheard him and Shippo on the other side of the room. She really just wanted a way to let out all the frustration and anxiety she had accumulated in the past few days.

Naraku grit his teeth. He had made a total fool of himself unwittingly in front of her again. He didn't think he had ever known a more infuriating person. At least she didn't seem to be mad anymore. Looking at the state of his bedroom, he didn't know if his apartment could survive another onslaught. He didn't even know if -he- could stand another one.

He sighed.

Yanking off the blanket sheet on her, ignoring her squeal as best as he could, he examined her closely. Feeling his eyes on her as the time stretched on, Kagome blushed freely.

"You need new clothes," Naraku stated. She was still wearing the ones he had found her in, which seemed to be the only outfit she owned. They had obviously seen better days, having been scruffed up and ripped during the events that had ran through yesterday.

Kagome crossed her arms protectively over her attire even though her heart rejoiced at the thought of getting new clothes. "I don't have money..." she said mournfully.

Naraku didn't respond, only pointed to the bathroom. "Go take a shower," he ordered, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "You smell like the sewer."

Sticking out her tongue childishly at him, Kagome obeyed, getting to her feet. "I'm not a 'you'," she said pointedly.

"Pardon?"

"My name. It's not you, or she, or it. It's Kagome." Kagome stuck out her hand, looking expectantly back.

Naraku stared at her, wondering what her bold intentions meant. Deciding all was safe, he replied, "Hiroga. Hiroga Naraku." Placing his hand in hers, his eyes widened as a sudden electric current seemed to travel from the tips of his fingers through his body, electrifying with distance.

Kagome didn't seem to notice the stiff atmosphere. Feeling his hand touch hers, she gave it a resolute shake. But she didn't let go.

Having gotten over the momentary shock at touching her, Naraku arched his eyebrows at the girl hanging onto his arm. "Now what?"

"Seeing as I can't, you'll bring me to the bathroom," Kagome replied stubbornly.

"And if I don't?"

"I'll stink up your home."

"Ah. Good argument. Follow me and don't trip over the floor entering the bathroom. The floor's higher in the bathroom then it is in the bedroom."

Despite the warning, Kagome still managed to fumble her feet along the raised area, almost pulling Naraku over with her tight clasp.

"Chikuso, woman, what are you trying to do, kill me?" exclaimed Naraku exasperatedly. He was starting to wonder when he would be free of the annoyingly troublesome girl.

"Don't curse," Kagome replied, attention on trying to find the doorknob to the bathroom door. Upon feeling the cold metal under her palm, she gave it a twist and stumbled clumsily into the bathroom.

"Towel's in there, so is shampoo!" Naraku called, shrugging off her hold on him and closing the door. "You'll find them."

Kagome growled. Trying to distinguish the difference between the water controls was not a task she wanted to do blindly. If Naraku wasn't going to help, then it wouldn't be her fault if his bathroom flooded. Settling herself with this thought, she undressed and got ready to take a shower, blindly walking in what she supposed was the general direction of the tub.

As Naraku outside made himself a cup of coffee, he heard a scream, and then a thud, as someone tripped over the shower side. Breathing in deep the coffee fumes, Naraku grimaced.

It was going to be a hell of a long day...

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**Annoying Author Blurb:** Believe it or not, I'm still alive. I'm not the greatest updater; don't know how long next chapter will take. This one was about 45 just rewriting what I had written a long time ago, and then the remaining percentage was newly done. The next one will have to be more new material, I might force Naraku to go shopping, LOL. Inserted a couple of hints and hidden plots, wonder if anyone will find them? Examples of such would be I revealed who the dead man was, who -might- be related to him, a background for someone, etc. etc. Guess I'll wait for the reviews and see...

If there's any question with grammar, spelling, etc. please feel free to contact me. Also, I've recently been going searching for betas. Anyone want to give it a try...? My email is I've recently just acquired a beta, but would love to have more (I think I'll take up to five)!

**Betas: **Karis, burnt banana. Thanks majorly! I couldn't have done it without you all! ::gushes::

**Word To The Wise (elementalspirit125):** "Now they show you how detergents take out bloodstains, a pretty violent image there. I think if you've got a T-shirt with a bloodstain all over it, maybe laundry isn't your biggest problem. Maybe you should get rid of the body before you do the wash."

Feel free to send any funny 'life' comments you have yourself. They always make my day!


	3. The Tarot's Hand

**Annoying Author Blurb: **Aie, only 23 more days for me until school. Back-to-school shopping is a must, will be conducted as soon as I get this chapter out. Betas still needed, email me if interested. Sorry about long stretch in updating. So many people want me to work on other stories, lol. Got nominated with Hollow Eyes at:

http: protege. just-in-dreams. com/

**Disclaimer: **All products of imagination hereby mentioned in the chapter below are from the author's mind. All characters are owned exclusively by Rumiko Takahashi, Viz Publishing, etc.

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**Hollow Eyes**

**By Elementsofmine/elementalspirit125**

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**The Tarot's Hand**

**(The Hanged Man)**

This story is rated R. The ratings vary from chapter to chapter. This chapter is rated PG-13 for language and adult situations. I must add, due to 's strict rating system, I have to up most of my story ratings.

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**Tarot Card Portrayed:** _The High Priestess_

_Upright- Wisdom, knowledge, learning, intuition, purity, virtue.  
__Reverse- Ignorance, selfishness, shallowness, suppression of feelings._

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**August 18, 2004. Mayor's estate. Top left turret, two windows to the right. Inside Main Office.**

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"Maybe you don't understand."

"B-but master, I do! I swear! I'm innocent! I swear, believe me! Please, master, I'm telling the truth!"

"If you don't find the escapees, there is no credibility in whatever you choose to say. Your job was to find the slaves, and you failed. You are dismissed."

The long-fingered hand of the master beckoned idly to the nearest patrolling guard. With a bow, the guard yanked the pleading man to his feet and pulled him roughly out of the office, closing the door with a 'click' as he left.

Opening a file cabinet to his right, Sesshomaru's eyes flickered over the files contained within, and selecting the jutting out corner of a single piece of paper, he threw it into the shredder.

Whirls and clicks hummed as the shredder automatically turned on, making brief work of the single sheet.

Closing the cabinet and opening another, Sesshomaru pulled out a heavy file, much larger than the others by thickness. He had to juggle it slightly to prevent papers from flying everywhere.

Setting it down flat upon his rich mahogany desk, he scanned each paper inside quickly, before finding the one he wanted. Reading it thoroughly, he placed it into his scanner. Watching as the image appeared onto his computer screen, he carefully used the computer tools to erase the entire bottom paragraph on the sheet. Printing it out, he replaced the original sheet with the edited copy of the paper. Taking the original, he placed it into his shredder, watching the words Kagome Higurashi appear before turning into mere scraps.

A knock on the door followed.

Using his heightened sense of smell, Sesshomaru immediately identified the one slave that had probably, the strangest scent ever. The 'nothing' demon, Kanna. Not completely void of a scent, just empty with one. One of his more loyal slaves, always assured to be on hand and never ask questions. Gesturing to the full shredder bin, Sesshomaru watch, eyes hooded, as the silent girl unhooked the bin and dumped the entire contents of the bin into the fireplace. The fire flamed over suddenly, sending trillions of tiny sparks to rampage over the shreds.

Bowing slightly, the girl rehooked the bin and left the room.

Sesshomaru crossed his fingers, interlacing the right with the left, and rested his chin on the interlocked digits. Helpful slaves were hard to obtain these days. The good ones were always sold, making a huge profit for their owner. He could trust on Kanna not to reveal anything she saw, even if she did see it. He was sure she was loyal.

The runaway slaves, however, were held with more than just easy doubt in his eyes. Especially the ringleader in the little rebellion, Kagome. He had yet to figure out what went behind those carefully guarded eyes of hers. She was but a few years younger than him. He remembered her from when he was still young, barely nine then. She was obtained as the slaves usually were, picked off the streets. Nothing had been done much about her, except for making her a slave and giving her whatever little freedoms a slave had. Kaede, the old cook, had been recruited in looking after the girl and teaching her the ways of the castle.

His brows furrowed, meeting in an elegant V-shaped crease. The old hag had probably assisted in the escaping, but she was too wily to be caught. She knew that if he arrested or executed her under the pretense of something about helping other slaves escape, he would be facing a rebellion from the eighty-something slaves he held. She held too much power in her grasp for her to marked as any regular slave. The others looked up to her, and even as much as he hated to admit, he knew that if she was taken out of the picture, the house would be in chaos.

As if his father hadn't left it in enough. Sesshomaru rubbed his prosthetic arm tiredly. The blasted hunk of plastic always began to rub at his skin if he wasn't careful, resulting in dreadful patches of burned skin. Not for the first time or the last, Sesshomaru wished he still had his good right hand.

Sealing the letter he had been finishing off before he had to deal with the fruitless search attempts of one of his trackers, Sesshomaru felt the presence of one his other trackers enter the room.

"You called?"

Of course, Sesshomaru had said nothing. The brief talk before had already hurt his voice; the scar there did nothing to help his speech. The particular tracker just had the uncanny notion of when his master needed him.

Picking up the edited version of the escaped slave Kagome Higurashi's biography and the blank envelope, Sesshomaru handed them over to the tracker.

"Find my brother, Ginta," Sesshoumaru whispered. "And deliver. The letter will explain. Prove to be more experienced in your field than the man sent before, and you'll be rewarded. Fail, and you'll report to me."

Ginta shivered; he had heard the pathetic screams of the man who had 'reported' back while coming down the hall.

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**August 18, 2004. Near-by local diner. Inside dining booth.**

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Maybe it wasn't the -kindest- thing to do to a blind person, even if it was temporary, but Naraku couldn't resist.

He felt like a tiger sneaking up on its prey on the Safari Channel.

Crouching, hidden behind the girl that was nervously drumming her fingers on the coffee table while shooting anxious glances behind her every few seconds, Naraku watched the clock.

Three…two…one…

Bending closer, Naraku commented casually, "I got the sandwiches."

Kagome shrieked in surprise, emitting tiny panicked sounds while snaring the frightened glances from many of the other customers. Scrambling to regain her balance after having toppled over the table, she reached out with her hands, attempting to find him. "Don't do that," she whimpered. "It's friggin scary when I don't know where you are". Waving her hands uselessly around, she stopped when she felt a face.

"Just because I can't see doesn't mean I can't slap you," she warned.

Naraku slid into the cushioned seats of the booth directly in front of her, laughing. "Slap away," he threw back coyly. "Just don't hit the wrong person."

Kagome froze. Patting the face in front of her, she felt the stubborn point of a still decidedly pretty nose, feeling the curving jawbone of a very confused female waitress. Face burning with shame, she slumped back into her seat and slid down back against the slippery material, Naraku's laughs ringing in her ears.

The rest of the day went much more to Kagome's liking. She drifted around on the streets between passing conversations held by passersby's, learning that the date was . Keeping a firm hold on her keeper's arm, she was able to learn which way to turn to avoid people. She learned that the city actually had many programs that assisted with the blind. She learned to listen carefully before crossing the streets for a 'chirruping' sound that alerted her of times to walk. Avoiding shorter things in her path were harder; many shopkeepers had shops that extended outside of their rooms, sometimes placing pots and toys all along the sidewalk for sale.

After noticing her tripping over her third trashcan that day, her partner suggested a break. Grateful for the offer, she held on tighter to his jacket and followed him through the crowd once more.

"It's just a bit a ways," he replied hazily, voice obscured by the conversing people coursing their way down the packed streets. Guiding her easily down a less-crowded string of shoppers, he led her down a street that seemed different to Kagome. After passing through a couple of more equally strange streets, she realized why. They were completely empty.

Still not speaking, she followed him down a flight of stairs, and felt a wall in front of her. A door opened, and a hand touched hers, unraveling the tangled web of fingers and fabric. Feeling her support being taken away from her, she panicked, kicking whoever was attempting to snatch away the only person who she could semi-trust.

She was rewarded with a sharp scratch and a pull that felt as if it ripped off her fingers. Yanked away from the door and into a smoky hallway, Kagome screamed and clawed the hand pulling her along.

"Argh, bitch!"

She stopped, nails gingerly tapping the voice's source. "I-Inu-chan?" Even she could hear the shudder of disbelief in her voice, not overlooked by her rasping.

The voice's reply was just as she always remembered him; constantly impatient and restless. "What, dammit?"

Stifling sobs for around two seconds before bursting open the long-held dam of restrained tears, Kagome gurgled a mixed cry of joy and confusion before weeping noisily and messily into his jacket.

Muttering curses about women that cried too much, Inuyasha pried her away from his chest and held her at arms length as if she held some sort of nasty disease. "Good grief!" he exclaimed, noticing her milky-hued eyes glowing slightly in the dark. "What the hell happened to you?"

A round of snuffles and babble greeted him.

Sighing, he patted her lightly on the back and pushed her in front of him. "The Ku-man's tired. He'll be working off the night here and than both of you will get a room in the upper levels."

"Ku-man?" Kagome managed to question.

"Naraku, the man who brought you in," Inuyasha replied absently. On a second thought, he growled slightly and, although Kagome couldn't see it, tugged on his silvery hair angrily. "When I'm done with him, there won't be much left to work anyways."

Kagome snuffled slightly, walking awkwardly down the long hallway. Far-off yells and music resounded down one section of the hall, but Inuyasha prodded her down the opposite direction. Clearing her throat, she asked, "What did…Naraku do?"

"Stupid bastard almost got us all killed, and then ran off a year ago," Inuyasha recalled angrily. "Haven't seen him in a year until just now. Huh. Wonder what he wants." Voice softening almost indiscernibly, Kagome caught the lowering lilt and wondered if the two men were friends before. If so, she didn't remember Naraku from anything Inuyasha ever said to her.

"So," Inuyasha said, voice breaking the silence that had set her thinking. "What happened to you after you ran away?"

Kagome stayed silent. Behind her stiffening shoulders, Inuyasha scratched his head. She had always been quiet around certain outstandingly touchy subjects; this would be one of the newer ones. Remembering how she used to be set off by the slightest comment into long soundless weeks, Inuyasha changed the subject.

"You can stay here for the day and the night. Only when tomorrow comes will we work out what comes next."

Kagome barely heard the last sentence. Her foot was gingerly poking a particularly squashy object. Ever jab brought a half-snort, half-snore to her ears. Behind her, she heard Inuyasha exasperated sniff of annoyance as he crouched down. Seconds later, a loud -slap- and the sounds of someone's hand on her backside sent her jumping backwards.

"Miroku," bellowed Inuyasha, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The accused smiled sheepishly up at the angry hanyou, long lashes fluttering innocently over two contrastingly devilish eyes. "You could call it lying in wait," he purred. "And it seems my bait has worked." Shifting his attention to the startled girl backing away slowly, he smiled. "Hello, what a pretty little fish I've caught."

"Touch her and you'll be bait for Naraku," Inuyasha replied flatly. "Besides, she's blind. Can't see."

"He already has," Kagome bristled angrily, recalling the hand that had slyly slipped up her skirt. Which then reminded her she still needed new clothes…her only uniform was beginning to show signs of tear.

None of the two men seemed to hear. Miroku's easygoing manner immediately darkened, the aura around him growing tense. "Naraku? What's he doing back?"

"That's what I was about to find out before you interrupted," retorted Inuyasha. "I'm going to have a word with him right now. You take the girl and find her a room." Stomping off in yet another direction, he disappeared, hair waving behind him, into the deep catacombs of the building.

Bowing lavishly, besides the fact that Kagome was looking around bewilderedly, Miroku offered an arm to her. "May I offer my hand as the escort that will bring this young lady to her estate?" he drawled decadently.

Finding his hand, she gripped it tightly. Miroku winced. "And may I offer that if my fingers fall off from the pressure, I'll have to offer other parts of my body for the service of this lady?"

Kagome's grip immediately loosened.

Grinning like a young schoolboy with cheeks alive with rosy heartiness, he strode off down a corridor quickly with her in tow. "Then off we go!"

Inuyasha's voice echoed down the hall angrily. "To a room of her own, not yours!"

Miroku scowled briefly, but brightened again, twisting Kagome in an impossible curve as he swept her around into yet another hallway. "Pish-posh, he's no fun," Miroku confided in the blind Kagome. "Doesn't believe in it. No humor at all."

"The Inu-chan I knew had humor," Kagome defended lamely.

Miroku gaped, and then doubled over in laughter, clutching his sides. "Inu-chan?" he chortled. "That's one for the books. I'll be sure to remember that."

Trying vainly to rescue what little dignity her 'Inu-chan' had left, she tried changing the topics.

"What is it with you guys and Naraku?" she asked, keeping her voice innocent and indifferent. "Seems as though you all were friends, but not any more."

Finding a door in the vast wall, Miroku unlooked it and thrust a key on a string into Kagome's hands. "Here's your room, settle in as comfortably as you like," he said, a little too quickly for Kagome's liking. "A maid will be in shortly to help you."

Pushing her in, Kagome heard the -click- of a shut door behind her.

She stood for a moment, baffled. He had definitely sounded perturbed. What was it with the people here? Better, where was she? She no longer had Naraku around to rely on, and felt strangely smaller and less important.

And Inuyasha…he was supposed to be dead! She rubbed her temples soothingly, alleviating herself of some of her headache. Her vision was already gradually floating back in large lumps of black and grey. One individual lump towered over the others in size and dimension, most likely the bed. Finding her way there with her arms still stretched out in front of her, not trusting her newly regained vision, Kagome slumped over the side of the bed.

She'd have to think through Inuyasha. He sure didn't seem pleased to see her after so long. Then again, maybe he was thinking the same things she was and also thought her to be supposedly dead.

A camera tucked away into the dark corners of one side of the room swerved curiously towards her tired form curiously. The frames glimmered, and than stretched out, seeking more detail from the dejected girl.

o

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**Main Underground Tunnel Intersection, known as MUTI for short.**

o

Kouga gingerly rubbed his bruised knees. Shippo never did decide to enlarge the deep maze of tunnels that spiraled all underground the city. The tubes were just wide enough to be entered comfortably from the sewer by a short child; namely Shippou. Any other adult had to settle with crawling for miles on end, torture on both the knees and the topmost of the skull, which constantly collided with above protruding nails.

He wrinkled his nose, trying to block out the unpleasant odor of the sewers behind him. Even miles away, the smell still permeated throughout the tunnels. Crawling forward a few more feet, he managed to reach a large, rounded out room that once again branched into more tunnels leading off on all polar sides. Reinforced steel prevented the tunnels from collapsing on each other, but didn't conduct heat well underground, leaving the wolf demon shivering. Jumping to the middle of the room, he stomped angrily on the floor.

"Up, stupid machine!" he berated, stamping the floor. Groaning irritably, the floor where he was standing on raised slowly and lifted up into the hollow cavities of the intersectional room. As though angry with its impatient rider, it purposely jerked and wobbled, sending Kouga scrambling for a good grip to avoid being thrown off the still-rising platform.

The rising stopped slowly, after having gradually been reducing its speed of accent. A speaker box protruded from the wall.

"Please state you name and purpose, intruder!" a chipper voice cried joyously. The voice had a tinny under front, revealing its machinery origins.

Kouga raised an eyebrow. "Kouga. Let me in."

The voice continued to sound ridiculously happy. "I'm sorry. That's not an acceptable purpose!" It giggled insanely. "Please state another purpose, and you'll be off on your way!"

A tic appeared over the wolf demon's left eye.

The speaker box stayed silent for an eye-blink, than started again. "Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Still there? Hello? State your purpose. Hello? Hello? Hello?"

"I need…to see….Shippou…" Kouga pronounced slowly, willing his annoyance down. "Let me in….or I will get…very angry…"

The speaker box seemed to contemplate that. "Really? But being angry isn't good for one's temperance. And neither is it a good purpose, One-who-is-named-Kouga. Please state your purpose!"

Another voice sounded out, shriller and annoyed. "Blast it!" The lever above Kouga's head opened, and he crawled in. Inside, Shippou sat a heavily pillowed chair, looking apologetic.

"It's the personality program I told you about," the child squeaked, voice oddly bobbing from high to low. "I tried many different ones, but none of them worked out to my satisfaction."

Kouga scratched his head. "Eh, really? Why try in the first place?"

The kid shrugged. "Bored."

The same metallically fake voice sounded behind Kouga, giving him a start. "Welcome to the lab!" it giggled, gasping between laughs as if running a marathon. "This is where technology is fulfilled to its fullest, records are made daily, and the city is managed…secretively of course!" the voice trilled, as thought the secret was less a secret than a game. "Welcome…to the lab!"

"You said that twice," Kouga stated.

The voice sounded worried. "Oh dear…did I? My circuits must be getting fried. Or maybe it's the batteries. Or maybe a power outlet ran out of energy. Or maybe one of the voice threads burned out. Or maybe…" The voice was starting to get panicky. "Maybe it's an omen. Maybe the world is ending. Maybe an asteroid is approaching! Maybe! Maybe!" The voice ran shriller, and shriller.

"Shut it off!" Kouga roared, jamming two fingers into his ears.

Shippou scrambled up and pulled the nearest levers. "I'm trying!" he squeaked.

Suddenly, the yells stopped, and the voice stopped crying out. Shippou sighed, and plopped down again into the large, squashy lime-green pillows, his own personal working chair. "It's off," he told the wolf-demon, "At least, temporarily."

Sinking slowly into the chair until only his bright green eyes were showing, Shippo blinked slowly and stared at the wolf. Kouga, who had already tentatively pulled out the fingers from his ears long ago, went from one foot to the other as he nervously jumped back and forth. He hated how one 11 year-old boy could make him so nervous, even one as shrimpy-looking as Shippo.

Looking around the room to avoid the unnaturally bright eyes, Kouga gazed at the various types of machinery operating in the room. Piles of seemingly useless junk from old bicycle handles to keyboards missing keys obliterated one corner. The other three were covered in 52"screens that dominated the room with their glowing pictures that constantly changed from time to time. One showed an empty street, where no one walked. Another showed a close-up of some random passer by's hair. Yet another showed something bright yellow, zooming out on its own to reveal a orange-beaked rubber duck, clutched in a toddler's hand as he ran around a tree in a park.

Below the giant screens were endless rows of computers, all tangled in countless wires. Only various glowing buttons and of course, the giants screen themselves illuminated the dark room, giving off an eerie glow that didn't quite seep into every corner of the room.

"Inuyasha sent news," Kouga finally said. The pair of green eyes continued staring at him, and then looked away, interested by one of the screens in his vast laboratory that was currently showing a girl slumped over a bed. Kouga noticed. "Don't you know better than to spy on girls in their bedrooms?" he asked playfully. Shippou didn't reply immediately, but only stared at the screen.

"She's not just any girl," Shippou replied defensively later. "She's the one Inuyasha used to know, the one he always talked about when the mayor still lived. Mei, or something like that. Miroku said something about how they were able to find her."

"Oh," replied Kouga lamely. "Well, Inuyasha said the heist went off. We got away with about a six thousand in cash and more in silver. One man got shot in the leg, but Kikyo's putting him right."

If Shippou heard him at all, he didn't give any indication. He continued staring at the screen.

"She's one of the runaways that had their faces posted everywhere last year," he continued, as though Kouga never spoke.

Kouga did a double-take. "What?" he exclaimed. The screen's showing of the girl didn't show her face, so he didn't recognize her. "No foolin'? Well, than we have us a fighter with a story to tell. I remember the Slave Police had combed through the entire city for that particular group of runaways. What'd Sesshomaru want with her anyways? She doesn't look that special."

Shippou's eyes flashed angrily. "Don't you dare say that name in my hearing. He killed my parents, took away my freedom, and I intend to get back at him for it!"

Kouga stayed silent. He knew how Shippou felt, even if he didn't offer any of his condolences. All of them had some sort of private score to settle with the government. Shippou had gone back to staring at the screen as though his sudden outburst hadn't come.

Finally, Kouga couldn't take it any longer. "Inuyasha says that Naraku's back," he burst out. "I didn't believe dog-turd at first, but now…"

Shippou crawled out of his hidey-hole that had formed in the beanbag. "Yep," he confirmed, mouth set tightly although his eyes were still sparkling. "Things are going to be different now that he's back. And I say let him come back. Things have been pretty boring without him here."

His tiny mouth widened into an infectious smile, so catching, that Kouga had to quickly scowl before he himself started grinning like a manic. He was starting to realize who the speaker's personality had been based off.

"Hey, Kouga," Shippo called, interrupting his musings. "Will you let me come with you back to the club? I wanna talk to this Mei girl."

Kouga was mystified by the odd question, but nodded. "Sure, why not?"

Hefting the boy out from the chair, Kouga carefully set the boy on his back. Shippou gripped his tiny hands in the man's hair, small legs hanging down uselessly, useless since the accident that took away his parents.

"You know," Shippou suddenly spoke, softer than ever with his face buried in Kouga's shirt. "She looks a lot like my mom."

Kouga was too busy flexing out the muscles in his legs to hear. Bending down once, he steadied himself. "Here we go!"

Jumping down the hatch where he had originally come up from, Kouga ignored the platform and plummeted straight down to the lower ground, Shippou's cries of delight in his ears. Fading fast behind him, the speaker crackled to life.

"Bye-bye! Bye-bye!" it chorused happily. "Bye-bye! Bye-bye! State your purpose! Bye-bye!"

o

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**Annoying Author Blurb:** Eek! Lots of apologies to make today! ::wink::

First off, an apology to K, administrator of http:www. fictionised .net. See K, back then I didn't know about Fictionised yet. Now I'm glad I do! Everyone, is one of the newest growing fanfiction spots. I myself have an account there, feel free to search for me under 'elementalspirit125'.

Next, sorry about the delay in posting. I'll put up a new chapter maybe once every week or two. Yes, I'm slow. I'm a victim of sloth and procrastination.

Another sorry goes to the fans of Yume no Naka. I'm really annoyed at how badly the first chapter came out. The plot will be fun to dance around, but I'm trying my hand at devoting more time to just one story for now. Sorry!

Okay, and the last apology is for my horrendous spelling errors. If you ever catch one, I have no trouble at all with you telling me. I can simply fix the problem and edit the chapter, easy!

Some of you wanted to know what I mean last time when I said 'Inserted a couple of hints and hidden plots, wonder if anyone will find them?'

**Things found in last chapter:**

Important background for one main character

Name of deceased man

Deceased man's relation to characters (Oh, it's -real- close )

-Seemingly- random character in bar (Hint: Star-shaped scar on forehead)

There was another really important one, but I've forgotten. ::crashes to floor::

Ack! One more apology! I got the years mixed up HORRENDOUSLY. No one seemed to catch it, through…. It was something along the lines of it said 6 years passed in one paragraph, and then 1 year passed in another. Time sure does fly…

If there's any question with grammar, spelling, etc. please feel free to contact me. Also, I've recently been going searching for betas. Anyone want to give it a try…? My email is I've recently just acquired a beta, but would love to have more (I think I'll take up to five)!

**Word To The Wise (elementalspirit125):** In honor of fiction writers everywhere: "The difference between fiction and reality is that fiction has to make sense."  
Tom Clancy.

Feel free to send any funny 'life' comments you have yourself. They always make my day! I'll post some of the funnier ones.


	4. Becoming The Lure

**Annoying Author Blurb: **Hmm, little later than usual, ne? Well, hope to have more then. Let's see how far I can get. This story's been nominated for Inuyasha 'Drama' at Project Protégé. More information can be found in my bio.

Vote for it at http:protege. just-in-dreams. com/misc /vote /inuyasha. Html

(without the spaces)

**Disclaimer:** No ownership of any of the below characters belongs to element-chan. She is but a poor author with poor-er writing skills which will hopefully soon change with the upcoming prospect of at least three new betas. ;;

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**Hollow Eyes**

**By Elementsofmine/elementalspirit125**

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**Becoming The Lure**

**(To Reel The Shark In)**

also named

**Mirrors**

**(And What Can Be Found In Them)**

This story is rated R. The ratings vary from chapter to chapter. This chapter is rated PG-13 for language and adult situations. I must add, due to 's strict rating system, I have to up most of my story ratings.

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**Tarot Card Portrayed:** _The Fool_

Upright- New beginnings, unlimited possibilities, new adventures, new opportunities, thoughtlessness, rashness. 

_Reverse- A bad decision, indecision, apathy, hesitation, childishness, a warning to be more responsible._

o

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**Punishment quarters, southernmost portion of estate basements.**

o

Kohaku could not remember a time where his skinny body had not hurt. The pain had lessened in the damp atmosphere of the Pit until it had resided back to a dull ache, but his right leg still refused to move from the awkwardly bent position underneath him. His left ankle felt sore and swollen and twisted strangely when he tried to walk.

There wasn't much a slave could do once thrown into the Pit. There was no sense moving off too far from where they were dropped off into the deeply hollow cavity; he would only get lost among the endless darkness. The only source of light came from high above him, a flickering of a candlelit hallway where troublesome slaves were brought to, and then sent off the edge of the outcropping into the black abyss below. No slave or servant had ever ventured into the basement above the Pit to measure the exact length of the crater. Kohaku guessed it stretched almost as wide as the entire estate built above it, with only a random motif of scattered beams to support the inner floors of the manor.

It was stuffy in the Pit, with little air being squeezed in. The floor was hard and cold, stiff with littered debris. Kohaku was afraid to venture further than the point where he was thrown in. His imagination played havoc on his already frightened mind, showing flickering dots in the darkness that resembled small flittering eyes.

'It's not that bad,' he told himself. 'It's not that bad.' His mantra looped itself, repeating over and over again. 'It's not that bad. It's not that bad.'

At least Souta hadn't been found yet. And neither had Kagome. Sometimes, he could hear the guards above him exchanging the day's latest gossip. Souta and Kagome were still free, maybe even together somewhere far, far away.

'It's not that bad. It's not that bad.'

He kept it up, keeping himself company in the lonely darkness. Carefully shifting his sleeping legs to a better position, he heard a grunt as his legs bumped into something. Something furry and soft brushed by his bare ankle, and the thing yawned loudly, showing rows of luminescent teeth. It grinned.

"Howdy."

Kohaku screamed.

o

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Sesshomaru suddenly awoke from his sleep with a pounding headache. Holding one clawed hand to his temples, he felt the pulse of his blood quiver under his nails. The sparsely decorated bedroom suddenly seemed stifling, strangely so even though the opened windows were blowing a soft wind into the room. The slaves had also left a new change of clothes on the stand next to the bed, white ecru linen with a single gold bracelet hoop nestled in the curve of a deep violet sash.

Images fuzzily hazed out in his mind. A young girl, crying for her dead mother. A slave (was it boy or girl?), clipped head bowed humbly. And a female wolf-youkai, baring her fangs and fighting like a madbeast as a whole troop of soldiers tried their best to control her.

Sesshomaru felt uneasy, feeling as though something he should have done a long time ago had not yet been accomplished. There were far too many bygone actions made by him during his life for him to remember a single few. His day would most likely be ruined now, the answer to his dreams forever daunting him.

What had he been dreaming?

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Sango felt childishly jubilant.

Having pulled the longer straw from Miroku's fist (and narrowly escaped one of his twitching fingers), she won the opportunity of being able to play 'host' for the new girl. Miroku himself had tried proving he would be better at taking care of the girl, but a quick demonstration with waiting on Kikyou proved him incompetent at anything but groping. However, as Miroku was the only one who could boast rightfully of actually talking to her, he was grudgingly held in some sort of respect. And Miroku, being Miroku, was milking it for all it was worth.

"The sensuous bright eyes," he moaned. "Those eyes! They could drive a man half-mad."

Kikyou snorted. "Ask me if I care."

"And the hair! Oh my god, Sango, remind yourself to ask her what shampoo she uses."

"Do you even know her name? Or were you too busy gaping at her chest?" Kikyou accused. Having enough with Miroku's apparent new crush obviously made her testy.

Miroku spluttered, his enthusiasm short-circuiting. Shamefacedly, he admitted to memory loss.

Kikyou sighed. "Show you can beat Miroku in the brains department and get her name, won't you? I hate referring to her as just 'her'. Okay Sango?"

Sango was already long gone.

o

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As soon as Kagome felt she had some control over herself again, she slid off the bed and wandered into another door that once opened, proved to lead to the bathroom. Even with her misleading befuddled vision, upon entering Kagome immediately resolved never to enter without shoes. The multicolored stains on the floor and sink were highly suspicious. So was the growth on the showerhead.

A grimy mirror had already been broken into several large pieces, but stayed mostly intact. When Kagome tried smiling in it, the cracks added jagged lines that dissembled her face sharply. Where her mouth should've been, an empty rusted hollow where a piece had fallen out grew, leering back at her in the macabre reflection. In her mind, Kagome saw the crescent-shaped cavity twist itself impossibly and grin.

'Slave…' it whispered, using her own face in the mirror. 'Ugly slave…go back to the gutter where you belong…Inuyasha won't care, no one will….no one loves a filthy slave.'

Deeply disturbed, Kagome turned her face away.

o

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In the years to come- she would have a long life ahead of her- Sango would never forget the strange eyes of the girl that inhabited room 421.

Turning the corners of a hallway bend, Sango hummed merrily, hands thrust deep into her pockets. Eager to see who Naraku's companion had been, she walked straight into the room their guest was roomed in without knocking and ran into a body entering. Both women squeaked and backed up a few paces to eye each other warily. Sango started at the bottom and saw a messily-clothed girl with grungy clothes. She met a slim, closed face as her eyes wandered up. Black hair pooled around her small shoulders, natural highlights glinting slightly in the cheap room lighting.

But her eyes! Sango couldn't help but stare. Two round emerald eyes defiantly watched her, green with darker grey-edged lines, unnatural in a woman of eastern decent. Stubborn in their unique hue, yet quivering with barely held fright.

"Eek! I'm sorry! Gomen! Did I come in on a bad time? If I did…I can always com-"

The girl was startled out of staring at Sango and quickly beckoned her in. "Of course not, come in! It's not my room anyways…"

Sango followed the girl into the room and nervously played with the fringe of her apron.

"Well…"

"Um…"

"I'm Kago-"

"Sango, at your service!"

Having said all of the above at almost exactly the same time, both girls looked over at each other and burst into laughter.

"I'm Sango," the informer said warmly, smiling gently. "If you ever need any help here, you can ask me. You'll have an excuse if you have any problems, seeing as you're new here and everything."

Kagome nodded steadily. "Kagome," she murmured, not taking her eyes off the older girl. While Sango had found much interest in her own eyes, Kagome was finding out much more from Sango's own pair. Soft, honeyed eyes above a small freckled nose decorated a pretty feminine face. Kagome only needed one look before she memorized the face in her mind, and needed only one look more to make a startling comparison in her mind's collection of faces.

o

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"Damnit Naraku, you've gone too far this time! Do you know what you've done?"

Naraku jerked his head back a few inches, but besides that, didn't move. His eyes were hooded, giving the impression of being half-asleep. Inuyasha wasn't fooled; he knew as well as everyone else in the room that Naraku was paying close attention to what was happening.

"You've brought a _slave_ into our midst. She's a damn slave. She worked for _Sesshomaru._" Seeing the cringes the name brought out around the table, Inuyasha repeated it for effect.

"Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru! She worked for that bastard and has no right to be here!"

Miroku desperately tried to hold Inuyasha down, fearing the hanyou would soon take out his anger on Naraku. "Inuyasha," he panted, "Calm down! He didn't know!"

"He knows now, and that's what you can tell the coroner later!" Inuyasha roared.

He broke free of Miroku's arms and lunged at Naraku, claws elongated and face a fury-red. At that exact moment, Kouga opened the door to the meeting room. Seeing as the startled looking Naraku was about to become pachyderm meat, Kouga crashed headfirst into the howling Inuyasha, preventing Naraku from dealing with a serious hospital bill.

Shippou, outside the room, curiously placed one ear on the side of the wall nearest the conference room to be able to hear better. Having been set down on the floor with a stern 'Stay put!' from Kouga, he was more anxious than ever to see what was going on inside the room. He was still a child, no matter how high his IQ, after all.

All he could hear from outside the thick walls were the occasional shouts. What he could make out came along the lines of…."Naraku…too far…damn….right…down….Arrrggh!"

Shippou blinked. That certainty couldn't be what was going on in there…could it? A sudden shout from inside echoed clearly even through the walls.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Kouga screeched. Peering through a thin crack in the closed blinds, Shippo watched, round-eyed. Inuyasha was in mid-air, leaping with all caution thrown aside, looking very much like the wolf out of Little Red Riding Hood about to pounce on the grandmother. Naraku seemed to play to part of the old lady, not moving an inch but looking caught. Amidst all the confusions and yells, Kouga charged in like a line-man, aiming for Inuyasha.

However, having had no time to correctly judge the power he needed to distract Inuyasha from his target, Kouga and Inuyasha ended up flying across the room, and would have continued for many yards if a wall hadn't been in their way.

Ouch. Shippo winced. If that didn't send them both to bed for the rest of the day, nothing else would. Forgetting Kouga's instructions just seconds after they'd been issued, Shippo painstakingly crawled off in search of the girl he had come to meet, arms straining as he pulled himself across the floor.

o

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"First off," Sango said, eyeing Kagome's attire dubiously. "We should get you some clothes. Why don't you take a shower now, and I'll let you borrow some of my clothes when you're done. We'll go shopping after to get you your own closet."

Sango watched as Kagome lowered her gaze to the floor. "Well, go on. I'll go get a new outfit for you."

Kagome twisted the edge of her shirt in her hands. "Um…I don't exactly have a clear way to _repay_ you," Kagome said bluntly, with a hinted emphasis over 'repay'.

Sango only laughed. "Who said anything about paying with money? I'll just sell you off into slave labor once we're done with you." Seeing the younger blanch at her off-hand joke, Sango rolled her eyes. "Humor, humor! Just a joke, kami forgive, not for real. You need to stop hanging around Naraku, that dope's non-existent appreciation for humor's starting to rub off on you."

Finally getting a small smile from Kagome, Sango eagerly went ahead and pulled Kagome out the door and ran down the hallway with the startled girl in tow. "There's so much to do!" Sango cried, looking back at the bewildered Kagome. "So many people to meet…wait 'til you meet this girl, Kikyou, it'll be like looking in a mirror, I swear…"

Kagome laughed, feeling the joyful noise erupt with transparent childish happiness. But upon hearing the words 'looking in a mirror,' Kagome was reminded of the cracked flass in the bathroom and had to choke back something that crept up her throat.

o

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St. Paul's Institution 

o

The man, heavily bandaged, lay stiffly. There was little he could do. His legs refused to obey him. Otherwise, he would have walked out long ago. Even with the promise of the best of comfort, he was still unsatisfied. How could life be so cruel? The world held so much from him. It was taunting him, leaving everything just centimeters out of his grasp.

He stored that in his mind. Maybe if he ever became a writer, he would write that. Yeah, that would sound good. He almost laughed. Like he wanted to become a writer. Writers were hopeless, stuck fast in daydreams all their life. He was going to be big, bigger than anyone ever before. Bigger than Jack the Ripper, bigger than Al Capone. Then again, he could always hire one of those writers to do it for him. Make a biography, one that everyone would want to read. Only the big-shots made it up that far. It would take endurance, but he had that.

Endurance was what made him what he was now. Not many people world could tell what it was like to hold a lit bomb in his hands. Not many people alive, anyways.

The door to the hospital room opened. A nurse meekly stuck her head in. "Excuse me, sir. Is there…anything I can get you, Miste-"

The man's eyes flashed. "Onigumo," he insisted. "Onigumo!" The nurse recoiled instantly. The man's voice was horribly cracked, as though he had never drank water from the moment of his birth 'til now. No creature on earth could look at him for long. His whole body was burnt, whatever skin left was dried up and clinging to his thin form. Flakes of ash piled around the floor of his bed.

The nurse backed out slowly, trembling with fright.

Onigumo used to last of his energy to give a short, animalistic snarl. If the nurse had had any sort of confidence upon entering the room, it vanished entirely. Whimpering, she dashed out of the room with a -click- as the door shut itself.

Onigumo sneered. The world would soon pay for what it had did to him. He'd be back.

o

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**Annoying Author Blurb: **Gomen!!! ::hides under steady barrage of flamethrowers, knifes, sporks, and lasers:: I didn't mean to be almost half a month behind in updating!!!

To those concerned about Yume no Naka: Unfortunately, I won't be updating that for a bit. It still irks me, and I'll most likely have to rewrite that. But for now, I'm sticking to Hollow Eyes. Sorry!

**Things found in last chapter: **Lots of bits and ends found in this chapter. Sesshomaru's dream (of course) is a particularly interesting one. You find three hints of different people in it.

One, 'A young girl, crying for her dead mother.' Two, 'A slave (was it boy or girl?), clipped head bowed humbly.' Three, 'And a female wolf-youkai, baring her fangs and fighting like a madbeast as a whole troop of soldiers tried their best to control her.'

I can assure you one of them is indeed Kagome, but it is not the first.

I wasn't going to add the last part in, but decided to, as a consolement for those poor people out there that waited for half a month and received this pitiful excuse for a chapter instead. --;;;

Notice how the man Onigumo says, 'Endurance was what made him what he was now. Not many people world could tell what it was like to hold a lit bomb in his hands. Not many people alive, anyways.'

**Word To The Wise (elementalspirit125):**

The following are reputed to be actual statements found on insurance claim forms where car drivers attempted to summarize the details of an accident in the fewest possible words. The instances of faulty writing serve to confirm that even incompetent writing may be highly entertaining.

Coming home I drove into the wrong house and collided with a tree I don't have.  
The other car collided with mine without giving me warning of its intention.  
I thought my window was down, but I found it was up when I put my head through it.  
I collided with a stationary truck coming the other way.  
A pedestrian hit me and went under my car.  
The guy was all over the road. I had to swerve several times before I hit him.  
I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother in law and headed over the embankment.  
In an attempt to kill a fly, I drove into a telephone pole.  
I had been shopping for a plant all day and was on my way home. As I reached an inter-section a hedge sprang up, obscuring my vision and I did not see the other car.  
I had been driving for 40 years when I fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident.  
I was on the way to the doctor with rear end trouble when my universal joint gave way causing me to have an accident and damage my big end.  
As I approached the intersection a sign appeared in a place where no stop sign had ever appeared before. I was unable to stop in time to avoid the accident.  
To avoid hitting the bumper of the car in front I stuck a pedestrian.  
My car was legally parked as it backed into another vehicle.  
An invisible car came out of nowhere, stuck my car and vanished.  
I told the police that I was not injured, but on removing my hat I found that I had a fractured skull.  
I was sure the old fellow would never make it to the other side of the road when I struck him.  
The pedestrian had no idea which direction to run. So I ran over him.  
I saw a slow moving, sad faced old gentleman as he bounced off the roof of my car.  
The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a big mouth.  
I was thrown from my car as it left the road. I was later found in a ditch by some stray cows.  
The accident was caused by me waving to the man I hit last week.  
I knocked over a man, he admitted it was his fault as he'd been knocked over before.

Feel free to send any funny 'life' comments you have yourself. They always make my day! I'll post some of the funnier ones.****

**Appreciation: **I give my thanks to Victoria and Andrew for their undying 'bothering' and 'boredomz' that finally convinced me to either write the next chapter of die in the agony of dullness. For a while, the second choice appealed to me more, seeing how even though I would die in agony, I would be surrounded by my best friends. Jamie, I'm lost for words about how I can describe my thanks to you. Your beta-ing….wow, I'm just touched by how long you've stood by me, through computer crashes and horrendous grammar. Thank you.


End file.
